


What Happens In Glaive HQ, Stays in Glaive HQ

by TheDarkLordMegatron



Series: Gift Fics [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Crack, Is Cor OOC? Probably. Do I care? Not a chance., M/M, Nyx shows his face for all of thirty seconds and takes thirty years off Titus' life, This is pure crack, Two Old Men Insulting Old Men Because They Can
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28015851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/pseuds/TheDarkLordMegatron
Summary: It’s far from unusual to see the Marshal of the Crownsguard standing around Glaive HQ, though a few of the more observant members of the Kingsglaive have come to notice that his presence is guaranteed whenever their Captain decides to step in and personally train those falling behind. It is hardly a revelation though, especially when the duo were reportedly married to one another. Not that anyone was brave enough, foolish enough, to attempt outright asking for the truth behind that particular rumour.What is known, however, is that those lucky enough to see the Marshal in Kingsglaive territory before 9am and accompanied by Captain Drautos, would see a side of him that very few ever did. One that was, for a lack of better phrasing, an utter ass.(This is a piece of crack written for 3 wonderful people <3)
Relationships: Titus Drautos | Glauca/Cor Leonis
Series: Gift Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1164350
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	What Happens In Glaive HQ, Stays in Glaive HQ

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeinNameIstJette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinNameIstJette/gifts), [Caillieach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caillieach/gifts), [Octomerls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octomerls/gifts).



> Here's your second warning, in case you didn't read the tags.
> 
> This is crack. Characters are likely OOC. No shits have been given, nor shall they be :D~

It’s far from unusual to see the Marshal of the Crownsguard standing around Glaive HQ, though a few of the more observant members of the Kingsglaive have come to notice that his presence is guaranteed whenever their Captain decides to step in and personally train those falling behind. It is hardly a revelation though, especially when the duo were reportedly married to one another. Not that anyone was brave enough, foolish enough, to attempt outright asking for the truth behind that particular rumour. 

For two men who often came across as being emotionally constipated, they were surprisingly affectionate with one another when in the relative ‘safety’ of what had been affectionately named ‘Glaive territory’. For as nosey as the Glaives were known to be, often spreading rumours among their own about who was sleeping with who, they did in truth pride themselves on protecting one another’s privacy. It had, at some point, become an unspoken agreement that whatever was said or happened within the Kingsglaive, remained within the Kingsglaive.

Another unspoken, and viciously enforced, rule, was that the table in the far right corner of the mess was off-limits. More than once a recruit had found themselves dragged by the ear away from that particular table. After all, no one particularly wanted to share a table with their Captain and the, his, Immortal. Especially when said Captain wore an expression that promised endless hours of drills to whoever was dumb enough to annoy him.

“And of course they rejected my request for additional funding,” Titus lamented as he flung one of the numerous forms currently in his possession across the table, watching in satisfaction as it landed in a small puddle of ketchup - the result of a three-minute battle in which he tried to convince Cor that no, not everything needed to be covered in the damned sauce. “Because using damaged weaponry and wearing sub-par armour is the perfect way to win a war.” Cor hummed as he leant across the table to collect the document, hijacking a piece of bacon from Titus’ plate as he did so. And of course, Cor being the heathen he was, rather than using a napkin to wipe off the ketchup, simply wiped it on Titus’ arm. “You’re doing the next lot of laundry.” 

Cor raised an eyebrow “I’ll do the laundry when you clean the toilet.” He stated before quite literally shoving the entire rasher of bacon into his mouth. Classy. Grunting Titus claimed one of the three remaining mugs of coffee and began digging through the paperwork in the hopes of finding something a little less depressing. Less than a minute after Cor had claimed the requisition form, it found its way back into the ketchup puddle. “Remind me to speak to Regis about Cassius’ obvious discrimination.”

“As if that’ll make a difference,” Titus snorted, “You and I both know the man couldn’t care less about anyone who wasn’t born and bred in Insomnia. He spends more time deciding on a toupee.”

“Somehow I doubt he even puts much thought into that. The man looked like he’d picked up roadkill and shoved it on his head yesterday.”

Titus barked out a laugh “True!” Shaking his head he ran his fingers through his hair before sighing and sinking further into his chair. “It doesn’t change the fact that our budget for the year has quite literally been halved, as if things weren’t tight enough, to begin with.”

“Give me a few hours,” Cor said, leaning forward just enough to dig his hand into one of his numerous back pockets in search of a pen, “I’ll speak with Monica and see if we can spare any of ours.” Taking pity on the struggling man, who for all the world looked like he was scratching his backside, Titus handed his pen over with only a hint of a smirk. Cor accepted the offered implement and proceeded to scribble a reminder to himself on his left hand. Why the man didn’t simply carry a small notebook, or set his reminders on his phone as everyone else did, including His Majesty King Technophobe, Titus would never know. “We should still have some excess from last quarter’s budget put aside. I don’t think it’s much but it should at least be enough to top yours up until Regis can force through some additional funds.”

“I’d prefer not to be accepting handouts, however, beggars can’t be choosers and stealing money from the Crownsguard always puts Cassius in a horrific mood, so that’s a bonus,” Titus said with a sigh, draining the last of his coffee before leaning over to steal the remainders of Cor’s mug; studiously ignoring the glare he received in return. “So long as I can keep my Glaives clothed and fed, I don’t care where the money comes from. We’ll just have to try and make do with what we already have.”  
The lack of funding was always a topic that stuck in both of their throats, especially when the Crownsguard’s funds seemed to increase every time the Glaive’s own decreased. Something that the men and women under Titus’ command had picked up on almost immediately and took great offence to. Not that Titus could blame them, they were, after all, the people who fought and died on the Lucian fronts while the majority of the Guards never experienced more than a few petty thefts or the occasional homicide. 

“If all else fails there are some more...unsavoury ways of ensuring that you get the funding you need,” Cor noted as he yet again stole another piece of bacon from Titus’ plate like the thief he was. “We still have those black stiletto boots in the closet, you know the thigh-high ones that Monica bought for me as a joke. I’m sure we could squeeze you into them.” He said with a grin, leaning forward to rest his head in his hand whilst waving the bacon around. And of course, the bastard waited until Titus took a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Get you to do a nice little dance number for the Councillors in the middle of Court.”

Inhaling liquids was never a pleasant experience, it was, however, a fairly common one when one was married to the heathen that was Cor Leonis. Choking on both his tongue and the scalding hot coffee that had attempted to drown him, Titus lashed out with a rogue file, cursing when his cackling husband ducked out of the way. After what felt like an eternity but was likely in reality, only a few seconds, Titus cleared his throat and glared at Cor who was resembling an annoyingly smug cat whilst taking bites out of his stolen bacon rasher. 

“You,” He coughed, clearing his throat “Are awful.”

“You’re only realising this now?” 

“Fuck you.”

“Will you be wearing the boots?” The mug left his hand before Titus even realised he’d moved and proceeded to sail past Cor’s head and shatter against the wall behind them. “Well, that was a waste of perfectly good coffee.”

Only then did the pair realise that the mess, which had previously been filled with a cacophony of voices, had fallen silent. Turning away from his husband, Titus slowly turned to face his subordinates in a manner which Cor would later state had some ‘serious Exorcist vibes going on, what with the slow head turn and all that.’ A sea of faces stared back at him, some in amusement (primarily Ulric and his cohort, Titus noted) while others, namely the newer and younger recruits, had moved their hands to the hilts of hidden weapons or had contorted their bodies in such a way that they would be able to intervene should they be required to do so. Interesting.

“Is there a problem?” He demanded a singular eyebrow raised as he looked over his troops. Beside him, Cor snickered and proceeded to liberate yet more food from his plate. 

“No problem at all sir!” Why did it have to be Ulric? Of all the Six damned people to answer him, why on Eos did it have to be him? “Just wondering why you decided to repaint the wall.” He was going to kill that man. He’d string him up by his laces, beat him a few times with a bat and unleash the rest of the Glaives on him with the promise of candy. Another snort from Cor and Titus’ jaw clenched.

“It is none of your business what I do with my personal belongings.” He ground out. 

“In that case, I’m sorry for damaging your walls last week when Pelna and I made a mess in the-” Whatever Ulric was going to say was blessedly cut off by Khara’s incoherent wail and scramble across the table they were sitting at. 

And that was his cue to leave. 

Standing up, Titus collected his paperwork, including the requisition form which now looked like the scene of a ketchup homicide and promptly swept out of the mess with little more than a middle finger to his giggling partner. Honestly, as emotionally stunted as the man was in public, he was an absolute child when in the confines of the Glaive HQ. A cacophony of voices exploded behind him, effectively silencing Cor’s footsteps until the man himself appeared beside him with a smile that he immediately reciprocated. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“No, I’m really not.” Cor chuckled, “If it takes causing absolute chaos to get you to smile, then it is absolutely worth it.” 

Humming Titus tucked the documents beneath his left arm, regretting it the instant he realised the defiled one had now soiled his uniform. Oh well. “I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight.” He mused in an attempt to distract Cor from his mistake, though he doubted he had succeeded if his smirk was anything to go by.

“Would this be because you forgot to go shopping yesterday?”

“...No?” Chuckling Cor shot him a sceptical look, “Don’t give me that face, I’ll get around to it.”

“And I’m sleeping with Regis.” Turning on his heels he put a hand on Titus’ chest, stopping him just before they reached the end of the corridor “I’ll speak to Monica and get things sorted out by midday. Once that’s done we’ll talk to Clarus about potentially throwing bigoted assholes from the top of the Citadel.” Titus chuckled as he leant in to kiss Cor’s cheek.

“I like the sound of that, thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Cor pulled away, moving towards the elevators “Although, if I were you, I’d make use of those spare uniforms we keep in your office. Your armpit looks like a McDonald’s robbery gone wrong.” 

Sometimes he really, really hated that man. But by the Six did he love him.


End file.
